Hands for Hire: Intergalactic Assassins

Jumping in Front of Trucks

Veldara sat in a comfortable armchair petting a small tortoiseshell feline in her lap. There wasn't anything particularly interesting to do today. You'd think that in a vast sector containing seven hundred terrestrial and aquatic worlds there would be plenty of work for an assassin.

Trouble was, Veldara was in the doghouse...or rather the cat house, on account of the creature in her lap. Smolorix the being was called, and Veldara had "stolen" her from a Maryland mansion on Terra 141.

Veldara had fiercely defended herself to the board, claiming the principal had failed to pay her for her services in eliminating some sentient trees that were invading her lawn. Under Statute 37B of the Intergalactic Assassin Regulatory Code (IARC), she had a right to accept payment in creative ways.

The board ruled that A. "The principal was in a state of catatonic shock and incapable of rendering informed consent" and B. "Payment cannot be accepted in the form of sentients classified S1-5. Since cats are classified as Class S3 sentients, they cannot be taken as payment."

Veldara heaved a long sigh toward the ceiling. She'd have to take Smolorix back and pay a fine. She knew she was getting off easy. Forcibly removing or rehoming any of the top sentient classifications was technically "abduction" punishable by up to twenty years in solitary confinement pending death row review, but Veldara was too high profile, a hero to some, a legend to others, and the monster under the bed to a few.

Still she wished something would happen, anything, that would let her keep her new friend.

Just then her holopad blinked. She snatched it off the end table just a little too hastily and Smolorix bolted under the desk on the other side of the room, shooting her a reproachful look.

"Sorry, Smoly," Veldara whined, wishing she'd come back.

"Agent V383, respond," the voice of her top supervisor came through the device.

"I'm here, Argax," she sighed, "Is it time?"

"Time for what? I haven't told you what this is about yet."

"Time to return Smolorix to Terra 141," Veldara fought back a tear. Yes, just one. She was a hardened killer after all.

"Forget the cat," Argax guttered.

Veldara barely even noticed the Ryltharian's gutteral dialect anymore. They were largely inquisitive and a diplomatic people originating in the Trixaris star system. However, their elongated, serpentine faces made speaking common rather difficult for them. Still, they were in practically every industry and their inquisitiveness made them both valuable employees and effective supervisors.

"Forget the cat?" Veldara sniffed, "I will never forget my Smoly even after she's gone."

"No," the Ryltharian almost sounded like he was sighing, "No, I mean you can keep the cat. We have more important things to worry about just now."

Veldara's stone cold killer heart leapt for joy. Thrilling danger AND she can keep Smolorix. She couldn't imagine how the day could get any better!

—----------------------------------

"You can't be serious," Veldara's voice snapped flat across the room, "I'm an assassin not an operative. I destroy sentients for money, not civic responsibility!"

"You do now," Argax replied in a soft, urgent tone shooting furtive glances at the two people in suits in the room.

The two people in question were dressed in business formal attire. Sunglasses covered their eyes despite the artificial lighting in the room being the perfect luminar frequency for easy vision.